


All of us in the dark

by Rospergs



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Non-Consensual, PWP, Rape, Steve/Tony if you squint, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 11:09:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3607923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rospergs/pseuds/Rospergs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Asset was walked to the room by one of his handlers, with orders to not look at the corner while following their commands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All of us in the dark

The Asset kept his eyes down, focused in the man on his knees in front of him. The man had tried a couple of times to close his own eyes, but a barked order from behind the Asset made him open them immediately every time.

They were pretty eyes, the Asset thought. It wasn't like he could express that opinion, or any other, but he really thought they were. Big and chocolatey brown, framed by dark eyelashes. They looked shiny under the light of the base's basement, like the man was very close to tears. But then, they had looked like that from the start, and there weren't any tears yet, the Asset reflected. Maybe his eyes were just shiny.

The man had a strange goatee too, something that almost sparked something in the back of the Asset's mind, some kind of recognition. But he didn't try to pursue it. If his handlers didn't want him to remember something, then he didn't need to know about it. And why remember, when that would just get him a trip to the chair?

The Asset tangled his fingers with the brown hair of the man, feeling his heart rate with his pinkie. He could feel a layer of clammy sweat, and under it, the pounding of his blood, fast and strong. Scared. The man inhaled sharpy, as much as he could, and twitched as if he would have liked to move away, even when the Asset had used his normal hand.

The man changed his pattern as in answer, and it almost made him hiss, but he managed to control it in time. They didn't like it when he made sounds, not unless he was reporting something or commanding other operatives. He looked at how the man mouthed his cock, slightly sucking every time his lips came in contact with the flesh. It looked... obscene, he thought. Yes, probably. With the sweat making his hair stick to his forehead, lips red and wet and those eyes so open and raised, looking straight at him. Even with the fear they reflected, the Asset recognized the image. It was very close to what he himself did when one of his handlers ordered him to go to his knees, when it was one of those who wanted him to look like he loved what he was doing. Sometimes they wanted him to moan too, but the man didn't seem ready to go that far.

It didn't do much for him, but his mouth felt good. The man chose that moment to stop, backing up a little and looking behind the Asset, his face contorted in shame and fear.

“Don't make me repeat myself, Stark! Give us a show or we will make a show of our own!” ordered a voice of one of the handlers. It was behind the Asset, probably were the man (Stark?) had looked, and its sound was followed by a suffocated grunt of pain. The Asset didn't tilt his head, as it would be his usual reaction. He hadn't heard the knife being draw, but he could smell the blood. The man (Stark, yes, that sounded right for some reason) actually looked panicked for a second and looked at the Asset again, taking him in his mouth this time and closing his lips around him.

And oh, that felt better. It wasn't the first time the Asset remembered to had received a blowjob – sometimes the technicians got curious when he was tied in the chair, and that was pretty much all they could do with him in that position – but Stark really knew what he was doing. It was wet, and sometimes sloppy, but by the feel of it the Asset thought it was a conscious choice instead of lack of skill.

He stayed still, just with his normal hand in the man's hair. His handler had said they were going to have some fun, but it wasn't directed to him, so they wanted him to participate but not actively. Suddenly, the man took him until his glans hit the back of his throat, tilted his head, letting him pass, and swallowed around him.

There were a chorus of whistles and comments behind the Asset, and the sound of metal clattering, all while Stark kept swallowing around his cock and the Asset kept a grunt of pleasure deep inside his chest. He wasn't going to last long now, but he hadn't been ordered to.

He opened his eyes, which he had closed when the wave of pleasure closed above his head, and there was the man, looking at him attentively, mouth stretched wide around his member. There were tears now, running down his cheeks, and the Asset pulled his hair, forcing him to back off a little and stop choking himself on him on his haste to make him finish. Stark coughed, breathed deeply and averted his eyes for a second, and there was a trace of steel in them this time, of displeasure. He probably wanted to finish it already, and he didn't appreciate the consideration of the Asset.

Consideration? The Asset frowned slightly, rubbing the corner of Stark's lips with his thumb. No, he just had prevented him from blacking out from lack of air when his handlers wanted the man awake. That was it.

Stark looked at him with confusion for a moment before something happened behind the Asset that made him go back to business.

It wasn't long after that until the Asset actually came. Stark closed his eyes tight and swallowed, moving his tongue under his shaft and sucking until it was over. After that he pulled off, his eyes fixed on the floor. He said nothing, but the Asset had the impression that, hadn't his handlers had somebody else which they had made bleed, he would have retorted something sharp and witty, even with the layer of shame on his expression.

He wondered who it was, and if he would have that same spark of recognition with them if he looked. But his orders before entering the room were to not look to what was in that corner in any moment. It made him uneasy, being unaware of his surroundings, but it wasn't his place to correct his handlers.

The laughs surrounded them.

“You liked that, don't you, Stark? A good cock all for you. But we haven't finished yet. Our Soldier has pretty good stamina.” Something hit Stark on the chest, and he grabbed it before it could hit the floor. He blanched, looking at it. It was a tube of lube. The Asset knew what his next orders where going to be.

“Prepare him, Soldier, and have some fun.” The Asset was already reaching for the man before the handler stopped talking, but there was a scuffle behind him. He didn't turn around but he stopped anyway for a second, tensing in case they ordered him to intervene.

“Stop! Stop! Don't, don't harm him! I will, fuck, I'm doing it!” the man exclaimed with a hint of panic in his voice, and putting the lube on the ground, he toke off his shoes and pants all by himself. There was the sound of meat against meat, another grunt of pain and what sounded like a sob, but nothing else, and the Asset concentrated again on his orders.

He knelt on the ground, grabbing the man by the ankle with his metal hand and pulling him closer, forcing him to his back. It wasn't something he had done before. He knew, half remembered his handlers and others operatives cheering and catcalling, surrounding a figure on the floor, but he had never been ordered to participate, just to stand guard or wait. But some of his handlers liked him at the other end, sometimes drugged, or fresh from the chair, or chained. Just a couple had risked it without a way of restricting him.

Once he toke off his underwear – cotton, easy to rip – he covered the fingers of his right hand with lube – always his right hand, unless they ordered him to use the left one on himself – and started preparing him. There wasn't any teasing or playing around. The first finger slipped in easily, and judging by the deep breaths Stark was taking it was because he was forcing himself to relax to it. The second one was a tight fit, and the Asset added a little more lube. They hadn't tell him to hurt the man while doing it, and he was strangely displeased to think about making him tear up again.

It was... different than when he did this to himself. Stark was tight, but seemed somewhat used to it, and warm. The Asset could feel his cock starting to fill again, twitching against his pants. He scissored his fingers, deep inside, and the man clenched around him for a second, but it couldn't be of pain. The Asset was being careful. He raised his eyes from his task, but Stark had his eyes tightly closed and there was a faint blush painting his cheeks.

The handlers must had noticed it too, because some of them laughed. “You really want it, don't you Stark? Acting so uptight at first, and look at you now. Are you sure we are forcing you to do it? Because I think you would be on your back and asking for it even if we weren't here” one of them said.

“Soldier.” The Asset raised his head, listening, but he didn't turn to look. “Make it good for him too. Let's see how much Stark last before he start asking for more.”

The Asset thought about that hint of steel in Stark's eyes, and no, that wasn't going to happen. But he moved his fingers upwards in a stroking motion, remembering where that point was in his body, and the man cried between his teeth and hit the floor with his fist.

It took some persuasion, but by the time the Asset had three fingers inside him, open and ready, Stark was hard against his abdomen, his breath hitching, but not a sound crossed his lips. He was ready, but the Asset stalled a couple of minutes, brushing lazily against his prostate. He liked feeling him tensing around him, seeing the way his eyelids fluttered without meaning to. He kind of wished his handlers weren't there. Would the man look at him then, instead of the ceiling? Would he keep being so quiet, or would he moan, moving under him and twisting his hips, searching for more?

He took his fingers away, lubed himself and started pushing in, as slowly as he could manage. Stark's mouth fell open, his lips red and bitten, but there were only gasps and the sensation of his body surrendering little by little. He blinked, looked at the Asset, and he wasn't crying, but the chocolate was drowning in shame and self-hatred, and hate towards him, too. The Asset heard his handlers talking between them, and mocking the other person that was with them, and for a moment he hated them. He didn't want those eyes looking at him with hate, nor did he want the handlers watching this. The feeling was unknown, and it didn't last long before dissolving in the haze that the chair always increased for a while.

But he still didn't want them watching this too closely.

He held one of his thighs with his right hand, holding it open so he could move between them, and his left one went to Stark's neck, forcing him to tilt his head to the other side of the room, the one where no one was standing. Not enough so the Asset couldn't see clearly his face, but enough that the handlers couldn't and wouldn't ask him to look at them, not when it looked like the Asset was forcing and controlling him with it.

And then he leaned forward and started thrusting.

Stark didn't make a sound in any moment, but his body tensed and twitched under and around him, his breath becoming more labored. The Asset angled his movements so he was brushing his prostate again and again, and once he found the right rhythm he moved his right hand toward his hip, spreading it open so his thumb would be caressing the head of his cock in circles. It was the last straw for the man. His body arched while he came, and the Asset kept going, thrusting faster, ignoring the comments behind him.

He finished with Stark's eyes fixed on his now that his left hand had moved to the floor to support his weight. The Asset trembled slightly, closing his eyes for a second until the pleasure subsided, caressing the man hip with his thumb.

When he opened them Stark was still staring at him. And for a moment there wasn't shame or hate, just a growing confusion, followed close by horror.

“God” he muttered, so low the Asset almost didn't hear it. “That's why they are using you. He recognized you.”

The Asset frowned. What?

He didn't have time to think about it before the handler that had walked him to the room talked.

“Orders accomplished, Soldier. Dress up, there's still a mission for you outside.”

The Asset stood up, slipping out of the man body and eliciting a hiss from him, and fixed his clothes, looking at the body still in the ground, used and exposed. He wondered for a second if he would remember this man after finishing his mission and going back to the chair and the ice. He thought he may have liked to, to remember those eyes that returned his stare with comprehension and sadness, even when he had been the one abused.

He heard sobs coming from the corner, but didn't pay attention, not even when he saw blond hair from the corner of his eye before stepping out of the room.

**Author's Note:**

> As usual: English is not my first language and it isn't beta-read. I just can't stop thinking about those two and there are too few stories about them.


End file.
